Stolen Moments
by Tanya Reed
Summary: Nigel thinks about Sydney.


Stolen Moments

by Tanya Reed

This little tidbit came to me when I was writing another Relic Hunter story (one hopefully to be coming soon.) It's another one of my introspectives—like "Memories" and "Cate"--from Nigel's point of view. It's not the best thing I've ever written, but I hope you like it. (My muse really surprised me last night. Usually I have to wrestle with her to get out a hundred words. Yesterday, she cranked out 1700 words on my other story, and then gave me this. I hope that means she's just gearing up for Nanowrimo.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Relic Hunter...or Nigel...or Sydney...

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Nigel was already in bed when Sydney came out of the bathroom wearing a simple dress that came almost to her knees. It was longer and more concealing than what she normally wore to bed, probably for his benefit. Knowing his shyness, she usually tried to keep him at ease in the times when circumstances forced them to share a bed. Well, except for when she was teasing him, of course.

Teasing didn't seem to be on her mind at the moment, though. She looked dead tired. In fact, she yawned widely, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Want me to turn out the light, Nigel?" she asked.

He leaned over and clicked the lamp on by the bed. "Go ahead."

She flipped the switch and made her way towards the bed in the dim light. She moved so softly, she didn't make a sound as she passed over the carpet. Her modest clothing allowed Nigel to study her with interest without feeling like a letch.

"You look tired."

"I am," she said, treating him to another yawn. "And my feet are cold."

"Where are your socks?" Nigel almost grimaced at the paternal tone that came from him without thought.

A grin flashed across her face. "Then, my feet would be too hot when they're under the covers with you. I'll just put them on your legs to warm them up."

"You wouldn't dare," he squeaked, immediately scooching as close to the edge on his side of the bed as he could.

Her grin turned into a chuckle as she slipped between the sheets. "Are you sure 'foot warmer' isn't in your job description?"

"Not to my knowledge, no."

She sighed in mock despair. "I guess they'll just have to warm up on their own."

"Mine are toasty," he let slip out before he could stop it.

"Now you're mocking me!" she exclaimed, trying to sound stern but unable to mask the laughter in her voice. "You know what you get for that."

He certainly didn't have to wonder as something that felt like an ice cube brushed the top of his foot.

"Syd!"

He feet wrapped around his, the chill of hers sinking into his skin.

"I told you they were cold."

He huffed. "I hope you don't treat your boyfriends this way."

"No," she answered lightly. "They have to fight off the entire cold me."

Nigel had a sudden picture of a chilled Sydney Fox cuddling next to him for warmth. He flushed and was glad the harsh overhead light was no longer on.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not one one them, then. Your feet are cold enough," he said just as glibly, but the picture lingered in his mind.

"They won't be for long," she said. Then, after another minute or two, she took her feet away. Nigel immediately missed the contact. "There, much better."

"I should hope so. Can we sleep now?"

"Sure," she said. "Now that I'm so warm and cozy, I can hardly keep my eyes open."

So saying, she let her eyelids flutter closed and curled up on her side of the mattress. Nigel watched her for a moment to see if there would be any more surprises. When she didn't move, let alone speak, he clicked off the lamp.

Settling down with his head on the pillow, he said, "Night, Syd."

"Night, Nige," she mumbled, obviously already close to sleep.

Around them, the room was still. As Sydney's even breathing changed subtly, Nigel knew the exact moment she slipped into sleep. The sound was comforting and as familiar to him as all of his friend's other quirks. They'd been in situations like this many times.

The first time they had ever shared a bed flitted through Nigel's head, making him smile. He had been so shocked at Sydney's innocent question about his preference for side of the bed, and he could still vividly recall the softness of her hair and skin when he'd unzipped her dress. Most of all, he remembered the sleepless night he'd had, lying motionless in the dark, afraid he'd touch her by mistake if he let himself drift off..

At the time, all Nigel could think about was Lori, and now he could barely remember her face. It was Sydney he remembered; what it had felt like sharing her bed, and how he had felt when she undressed and threatened to crawl into the shower with him. He had barely made it out with his modesty in tact.

If he knew then how often they would have to sleep side by side it might not have horrified him as much. He certainly couldn't have known that just three years later he'd live for moments like this.

Nigel sighed, wondering when everything had changed. When had the admiration and friendship he had for Sydney turned to love? Was it when they were captured by Tsarlov? Or when Carson Inez took her away from him? Or maybe when Claudia's astrology told him Sydney was his perfect match? Maybe it was even before then, way back at the beginning when he first saw her dancing with wild abandon before throwing a spear a this head. Had he always loved her and just been too blind to see?

Certain Sydney was asleep, Nigel gently let the love for her he kept hidden during the day loose. He turned over on his side and studied her with eyes that were just getting used to the darkness. He continued to listen to her breathe and took a deep breath to smell the hair that was draped over the pillow so close to his face. Even though her outline was fuzzy, he knew exactly what it looked like. He had seen that face in every sort of expression, both in reality and in his dreams at night. He could honestly say that he knew Sydney Fox more than anyone else alive—with the possible exception of her father.

Nigel wished that he could tell her. If he thought it would do any good, he'd drop down on his knees in front of her and spill everything in a heartbeat. But he was her employee and her best friend. She'd never be able to think of him as anything more, not when her tastes still ran towards Dallas Carter and Allan Devault, so Nigel remained silent.

He knew he was a coward. He was terrified to tell her how he felt. It wasn't that he was afraid she would physically hurt him. He'd gotten over that fear within six months of their meeting. What frightened him most was that she'd send him far away from her, and there would be no more moments like this. He'd give up everything he had just to keep riding the line between pleasure and pain so that he could have the simple joy of lying with her in the dark. How many men really got to go to sleep with the woman they loved--listening to her breath, smelling her scent, feeling her warmth? Sex was good, yes, but to Nigel this was better. He had the best part of love—waking up to Sydney's face sleeping peacefully beside him on the pillow.

The thought made him smile, and he finally let his eyes drift closed. He needed to get to sleep so that he could wake before Sydney. He wanted to see her face as she woke in the morning.

The End


End file.
